Why do I always make men look like monsters and women like saints? Is that what I always do? So many men are angry with me. Women are mean, ask Adam. I know. There are bad women. And there are good guys too. But as a woman, sometimes you can’t blame me if I see things just like that, as a woman, I mean. I’m sure we have been at this for a while now, doing the back and forth on who is badder, the guy or the girl.
When we swig stories, haven’t we discovered that bloody noses are a common denominator in relationships? Yeah. Women are bad. Girls are badder. That is one thing we can agree on but let me not bore you with what you already know or anger you more with what you are already angry about.
Today, I’m not really going to hit the men, ahem, at least not like that. Let’s just say I want to draw their attention to some obvious facts they daily ignore. Now, I must confess that this piece was triggered by a text message joke I received from a co-conspirator. Here goes; Eleven people were hanging on a rope under a helicopter.
There were 10 men and a woman. The rope was not strong enough to carry them all. So they decided that one of them had to leave, otherwise they were all going to fall. They were not able to agree on who that person would be. Until the woman among them gave a touching speech.
She said that she would voluntarily let go of the rope because as a woman, she was used to giving up everything for her husband and kids or for men in general. She said she was used to always making sacrifices and getting little or nothing in return.
As soon as she finished her speech, all the men started clapping… All the men, of course, dropped to their untimely deaths and she flew away alone in the chopper. Well, what can a woman do? That is the power of a woman, the brand only smart men recognize and acknowledge. If there had been at least one of those 10 excitable men who could see beyond that woman’s ‘moving’ speech, he would be alive today.
But don’t we all know that men don’t do much thinking when they see women they want? In my mind’s eyes, I could see the woman in that joke wearing a very short skirt, no bra and a top with a plunging neckline.
How do you reason with a man drooling over ample cleavage? If you scream ‘Praise the Lord’, he won’t shout Halleluyah because he is far away in la-la land. The woman in that joke, I’m sure, also had smooth skin, probably fair skin. All 10 men simply threw their thinking caps in the air or how else do you explain why they all forgot that they did not have third hands and that once they started clapping they were going to drop to their deaths? That is exactly my point.
A smart woman can make a man do whatever she wants him to do. We are that powerful. Oh, don’t even try to disprove it. Just save your energy for the next time a woman is delivering a speech and you need all your wits about you to hang on to life instead of clapping your way into an early grave.
Of course, I’m the first to admit that there is something comforting about the sight of a woman. We were created like that. Every woman has the right gadgets to comfort a man, make him feel safe, give him life.
That is the reason baby boys suck breasts more fervently than baby girls and when you wean him off the breasts at 12 months, what does he do? As soon as he is old enough to recognise that there are other breasts apart from mummy’s own, he goes breast-hunting. Poor men, you can’t wean them off breasts.
They need to be regularly nourished. Who’s complaining? Don’t forget that this piece is about alerting men to the dangers of their bad wild ways on the one hand and the powers of a woman on the other. No man should delude himself that his woman is powerless.
If you doubt my sermon, ask yourself how much you spend on your daughter and compare it with how much your sons cost. Even your little tyke is twisting you round her pink fingers. A smart man works all day, sits on his butt for eight-straight hours trying to seal a deal.
He finally gets it in the can, tired but happy. He drives home and sights these half-clad daughters of Eve along the road and stops to give one a ride. He convinces himself he’s celebrating his new deal. Before you know it, he is expending more energy and spending money that is not yet in the bank.
I see my sisters who have not much to show in terms of source of income living in posh apartments in choice areas of town and driving wonder-on-wheels. Who’s paying? Men who are clapping when they should be holding on firmly to the rope. Well, the girls are having fun and the men are not complaining.
I just feel like warning them today. Men should stop thinking that it’s a man’s world. Please, it’s women’s device to keep you clapping. It suits even me to convince men that it’s their world. But it isn’t.
My brother summed up this whole clapping-when-you-shouldn’t business when he said ‘men are forever prostrating for their women when the women are not riding them.’ I’m still trying to decode that one. Are the men still clapping?
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